I was my mothers secret that she took to the grave with her. In two years she had two children but only one was known to the people who knew her, she was a champion of deceit possibly because she had little choice.
Her home was bombed and with nowhere to live she left me behind in a hospital to be adopted. She was probably told to take her baby and give it to some one else was the right thing to do and she would have to agree under the circumstances.
My foster mother had given out an order like a baby was just merchandize. It must be white, must be english, must be healthy, have a history of good health and come from respectable parants, hardly a woman who wanted to love a child.
Then she got a hint that i had Irish parants and she rebelled like the narrow minded one that she was. As for any real family ever knowing about me there was little chance of that. My foster mother told me she met my mother and told her never to make contact with me ever and stay well away from me so my mother kept her secret until the end.